


Of Illustrations and Footnotes

by netweight



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-06
Updated: 2006-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netweight/pseuds/netweight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>History. Mementos. Moving on.</p><p>Buffy post-"Not Fade Away".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Illustrations and Footnotes

She finds it while paging through another dry tome, under the watchful eye of one of the many priests always assigned to accompany her.

It's a hasty sketch on cardboard, the colors garish and just one step short of tacky. They sprawl casually together in some sort of cushioned recliner, faces turned to each other. Their semblances are crude, half-lidded eyes and crackling, twisted smiles. Like they're sharing a particularly indecent joke.

It's a moment in time, maybe a night of joint drunkenness. She can't tell if the artist barely had time to capture the instant or if he had hours to contemplate them. If they left right after or if they stretched the conversation into the morning. If they went out into the streets or upstairs into some room. If they killed or if they ….

They had years together still. Three or four, the date of the painting is uncertain.

She doesn't have anything. No little mementos to remember them by. No movie tickets, no books. Certainly no rings, everything swallowed up. No streets, no graveyards, no crypts remain. No graves to mourn over.

There were neither letters nor phone calls in that last day. No explanation, no word of warning, no last goodbye. No chance to say, "I meant it," or, "I still think that far ahead".

She stands in a dusty basement in the Vatican and thumbs the century old drawing. They look happy.

She takes it with her when she leaves that day. Years from now, this will be a footnote on the file that undoubtedly exists on her inside those walls. But she doesn't think on that while she pushes her sunglasses on and steps out into the bright light.


End file.
